Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 40 - 39: Out of Control

Claire Prescott didn’t actually go to the restroom, she just needed an excuse to get out and clear her mind.

Standing in front of a window with no other people, she gazed out at the bustling view of Valoria.

The skyscrapers stood close together, their lights dazzling, the flow of cars like weaving threads, painting an enchanting picture of the city.

However she looked at it, she felt she didn’t belong here.

She knew from a young age that her grandfather used to be the richest man in Valoria. Although the Prescott Family wasn’t as powerful as it used to be, the way people flattered her and Finn was proof that their standing in Valoria was still firm.

But.

The socialite and young gentlemen inside, for all their glamorous appearances, were nothing more than hedonists, without a single proper thought in their heads.

How could she escape this situation?

She definitely didn’t want to go back and play cards with them.

It would be great if Keane Lowell were here, then she could catch him to talk.

Thinking this.

She took out her phone.

Since she couldn’t see Keane, giving him a call for some distraction might be a good idea.

However.

As soon as the call connected, she heard the sound of high heels approaching from behind.

She turned around and naturally caught sight of the person behind her.

It was a woman dressed in a modern cheongsam, exuding strong femininity.

Her almond-shaped eyes were alluring, her lips a fiery red, carrying an air of ethereal elegance and sensuality, swaying with an enticing charm, beautiful with an aggressive allure.

Meanwhile, Keane’s deep, magnetic voice came through the phone next to her ear.

"Claire, what’s up?"

Claire Prescott parted her lips and softly replied, "I’ll call you back."

With that.

She hung up and put down the phone, casually looking at the person standing before her.

The newcomer unabashedly looked her over from head to toe, yet maintained a dignified and gracious manner, with a strong scent of roses lingering around her.

"Miss Prescott, am I disturbing you?"

"Who are you?" Claire asked calmly.

"This is our first meeting, I’m Faye Lynn."

Seeing her extend a friendly hand, Claire hesitated for a moment.

Ultimately, she shook it briefly, "Does Miss Lynn have something to discuss with me?"

Faye Lynn’s voice remained gentle and delicate, "I just thought you’re different from them, wanted to come over and make friends, didn’t expect to find you on the phone."

Claire found this remark somewhat baffling, "Where did Miss Lynn see I’m different from them?"

"I have a good eye for people." Faye Lynn crossed her arms, walked around her once, "And what they say isn’t wrong, allure is the pinnacle, a refreshing flow in The Valorian Circle, even playing cards is graceful, plus there’s a faint scent of herbs about you, if I’m right, you must be studying medicine?"

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Claire caught a hint of disdain and judgement in her demeanor.

She’s seen this look many times, gradually realized that perhaps due to earlier events, it sparked jealousy, hence the sarcastic tone.

"Have you seen enough?" Claire said coldly, her brows already showing irritation.

Faye Lynn restrained her smile, her expression gradually solidifying.

The atmosphere instantly grew tense.

Claire clutched her phone, walking past her indifferently.

Carrying a faint chill.

The aura, completely disregarding her as a socialite.

Faye Lynn watched that white silhouette disappear from view with a gloomy expression, her jaws clenched tightly, a feeling of frustration rising within.

Voices echoed in her ears at that moment:

"The Valorian Circle’s top socialite is nothing compared to the Prescott heiress."

"If that Prescott heiress had emerged from solitude earlier, there wouldn’t be any room for Faye Lynn."

She took a deep breath, lit a cigarette and took a drag. After being elevated for so long, a crisis made her anxious, even struggling to hold her head up...

...

Around a corner, Claire Prescott distanced herself from the trouble.

Suddenly, a boisterous voice came from the stairwell, causing her steps to abruptly halt.

"What’s the point in glorifying Finn Prescott, he’s nothing but a bastard, just an unwanted illegitimate child, settling the Prescott’s pampered heiress is where the real money is..."

The words grew filthier.

Claire’s brows knitted tighter.

The person inside the stairwell suddenly opened the door.

It was a man wearing a light blue shirt, his face sallow and dark, eyes hazy, slightly drunk, looking like someone indulged too much.

Seeing her, he was momentarily stunned.

Then he shoved his phone into his pocket, swaggered over, trapping her between the wall and himself.

"Eavesdropping on someone’s call, do you know any manners?" His tone was frivolous, his eyes unrelentingly staring, "Where are you from, why haven’t I seen you before?"

Claire looked at him with raised brows, contemptuous, "Weren’t you just talking about tying the Prescott heiress to a bedpost, how come now you’re hitting on me?"

"Forget her, what about talking about us. As long as you please me, I can give you anything you want, I can even give her up for you."

"Would you dare?"

His eyes lit up with heat, unabashedly showing his desires, one hand propped against the wall behind her, the other reaching for her waist.

Before he could touch her, his wrist was seized by Claire Prescott.

Feeling the warmth in her palm, the man was instantly excited, his blood surging, he lunged at Claire’s chest.

However, almost simultaneously, the sound of a bone displacing was heard.

The man’s face turned pale, as his lower abdomen received a knee from her, a painful "ah" echoed throughout the corridor.

Never expected, with just a light touch, his hand was fractured by this seemingly delicate woman.

He stood upright, holding his fractured hand, viciously lunging at her, "You’re looking for trouble!"

Claire Prescott wearing high heels, had no chance to escape.

The man’s sturdy hand accurately caught her neck, pinning her to the wall, lifting her upward inch by inch. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Her blood rushing upwards, the suffocation uncomfortable, her vision darkened.

Reaching for the silver needle on her, preparing to fight back, suddenly a figure appeared, delivering a powerful blow to the man in blue.

Simultaneously, the danger was lifted.

Claire Prescott collapsed to the ground, leaning against the wall, coughing violently.

Then someone helped her up.

"Miss Prescott, are you alright?"

It was Assistant Cheney’s voice.

Looking up, through the haze in her eyes, she met Keane Lowell’s gaze ahead, although not clearly visible, faintly sensing the intimidating coldness in him.

It was just now, he who saved her.

"Who the hell are you?" The man lying on the ground cursed angrily.

Keane quietly lowered his gaze, unexpectedly raised his fist, beating the recently upright individual back to the ground, then leaned down, grabbing his collar, striking his face repeatedly and uncontrollably.

The screams were clear, gradually weakening.

That man’s face covered in blood, lay there almost lifeless, if this continued, it could be life-threatening.

She intervened, "Stop hitting."